~ Blind Sight Coauthors

__picture it & write

I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please ). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook.

Every fortnight we hope to host a photograph suggested by contributors. So, keep those photograph recommendations coming. Submit your favourite images (with credit) for next week’s Picture it & write!

The burning sun crept over the horizon. The heavy silence hushed my trembling whimpers. The tendrils of the unwavering fog caressed the bridge. My shivering hands grasped the rails and peered over, it was a kilometre drop at the very least. I pulled back and pushed away the stubborn tears that leaked from my eyes. I watched as my father trudged into the fog. If only I hadn’t been so rash… he wouldn’t of taken the fall for my actions. “Please come back,” I begged. It was the last time I ever saw him. The fog never returned its victims.

– Ermisenda Alvarez

Everyone is welcome to use the button, just link them back to the Picture it & write category or Ermiliablog! Share your love for Picture it & write on your blog with the image below. Be proud, and stylish !

Im walking high and proud.
Through my mind.
Deep beneath me rest
my insecuritiesand my issues.
Walking past the railing
I am trailing my life.
Do keep walking high and proud.
Or do I give in to the deep.

Is the bridge a dream, carrying us above the mists of reality? It allows us the failure to peak at the unknown depths of what flows on beneath. Ignorance they say is bliss. Bliss they say is heaven. Heaven is above what’s below; now perhaps it’ll start to make sense. The art of the Escapist, above or below, is always escaping.